Mercy Killing
by Scarlett Oakenshield
Summary: When reapers start disappearing, the Shinigami Dispatch finds themselves caught up in a web of lies, dark secrets, violence, and horrors of the dark past that surrounds their realm. And in witnessing Grell's fleeting sanity, Will realizes that there is far more to her, and to the haunted past plaguing their world than he could have ever imagined.
1. Prologue

_SUMMARY: The Reaper Realm is a place of peace and neutrality. Everything is as well as it should be. William's dull, predictable life has changed for better with his new relationship with Grell, Eric and Alan have settled down together, and Ron is the happiest he has been in awhile._

 _But then everything changes. An unknown force threatens the Shinigami's peaceful lifestyle. Reapers and students begin disappearing and a feeling of dread sets over their realm. With no formal police force to investigate, the dispatch is forced to take action. And they soon find themselves wrapped up in a web of lies, dark secrets, violence, blood, corruption, deception, and horrors of the dark past that surrounds the reaper realm. And William is forced into facing the ugly truths he had never, ever wanted to relive again. And what of Grell? As he witnesses her already fleeting sanity slowly fading away, William realizes that there is far more to her...and to the haunted past plaguing the realm than he could ever imagine. Which leaves two questions: Just how long will it take before the imminent disaster? And how long will it take before he witnesses his lover break completely?_

* * *

 _NOTES: Hey, hey, hey! Welcome to my new Black Butler fic! I recently got a case of nostalgia, and found myself down in this trash pit again lol. The reapers are definitely my favorite part of the Manga/Anime, so this story is about them specifically. Therefore, I'm probably not going to include Sebastian and Ciel (sorry.)_

 _Oh, and a couple more things to note: I am not up to date with the manga, I apologize for that. Luckily though, this story does not follow the manga as closely, since it focuses on the reapers, so I don't think it will be an issue. Although, from what I understand there is a new grim reaper character? If any of you know anything about them can you give me the name so I can look them up? Thank you in advance! And, I am using female pronouns for Grell, because Yana Toboso confirmed them. Deal with it._

 _Anyway! I hope you all enjoy this story! Onwards!_

* * *

 **Prologue: The Beginning where it Ends**

The pounding rain against the slippery ground was merciless. The monstrous drops slapped hard against the cracked pavement, and against the buildings. It sounded like drummers drumming their wooden sticks against drum heads. Thunder rumbled up above, and the sky was so dark, thickly covered with black clouds and with fog. One could barely see. Every once in awhile, white lighting bolts ripped through the sky. The wind was howling, it was so strong it seemed it would blow someone off the face of the earth. Off in the distance, a clock tower struck midnight, reverberating through the air, and adding to the chaos. It smelled of blood and soot. There had been a fire earlier, that had been killed by the buckets of rain. The flickering signs and lights from the theatres, shops, and buildings shown brightly against the darkness created by the rain, illuminating the gruesome scene.

Chaos. Amidst the storm. Cries of pain. Shouts of alarm. Screams. On the roofs, all over the streets, figures fought one another. Equipped with scythes, and a numerous plethora of abstract weapons. Puddles of crimson blood, and bodies. Broken glass from the infamous reaper spectacles. Glasses stained with blood. Everywhere. An unearthly light of cinematic records filled the dark sky as the reapers fell to their dooms.

This was one of the bloodiest reaper-against-reaper battles that there had ever been. The once-peaceful city had been transformed into a battlefield.

-xXx-

Someone's feet splashed through the muddy puddles as he sped through the battlefield, veering and dodging using the stealth he had been trained in.

His sharp eyes darted about, as he dodged attacks, and veered through fights, leapt up onto the buildings, cutting down any of the enemies in his path. He was soaked to the skin, and his once-neatly combed black hair fell in stiff strands, and plastered against his face.

He was looking for someone. And he hoped to whatever higher power there was that she was okay.

He heard it then, the whir of a chain-saw. The manic laugh. He saw her, covered in more red than usual. He knew it was from her kill count. He had seen her in action. He had seen her hacking enemies to bits, in her tattered coat, her heeled boots and torn black trousers, the linens wrapped tightly around her chest, the gorgeous red hair pulled taught in a ponytail, covered with blood that wasn't hers. He had seen her crazed expression, empty green eyes, he heard her sadistic laughter. He felt her bloodlust, her fury, and witnessed her invincibility, created by her insanity. She was splattering the blood of those that dared cross her. And laughing. Slashing through those foes that had hurt her. Tortured her. Violated her. Anger burned in his chest. They were getting from her what they deserved. But...at the same time, it was so painful for him to watch her in this state she was in. This manic, sadistic, broken state. He knew how broken she was, and it hurt him so much.

From his view on the rooftop, though, he could see her now, fighting a particularly strong foe. She wasn't as swift and skilled as she usually was. She had been wounded, he could see the gash across her arm. The gash across her shoulder blade. She was getting winded, but she continued to fight. Her breathing was heavy and rapid, and she was fighting to keep her coordination and balance.

And she was taunting her foe, "Is that the best you can do!? Come on!" She laughed, through heavy breathing, "I'm not afraid of you! Taste the passionate fury of my death scythe!" Her eyes burned, her shark-toothed manic smile didn't leave her face. She clumsily swung. And missed, barely stumbling out of the way of the other reaper's swing.

Idiot! What are you DOING!? He wanted to scream, but he didn't want to distract her. She was wearing herself out.

The other reaper slashed her dominant arm. She continued to laugh with blazing eyes, and jumped up to attack him. It was terribly aimed and terribly timed. With a powerful swing he disarmed her. Caught off guard, she hit the ground sharply, disoriented. She barely noticed him coming head on at her.

NO! He pushed a button on his death scythe, and the shears extended, impaling the enemy reaper in the back. He froze and buckled to the ground. He retracted his death scythe and leapt down beside her.

She was blinking away what had just happened, scarcely fazed at all. The moment he helped her up, she gazed at him for a moment, conflicted, confused, eyes blazing, before she pushed him off and picked up her scythe again, she raised it above her head and tried to attack him, she did not seem to process that it was him. He veered quickly out of the way, in surprise, and called out to her.

She moved to strike him again. Her eyes were still blazing, and her crazed expression still stayed on her face.

"Grell!" he finally called out, "Snap out of this! What are you doing!?"

His call fell on deaf ears. He continued to dodge her clumsy, predictable attacks. Eventually, she would tire herself out.

He continued to call out to her, hoping to snap her out of whatever frenzy she was in. Though, he should have expected this from her. He knew how broken she was, he knew how manic she had the tendency to be. And he knew, above all, that recent events had broken her, possibly beyond repair…

Amidst her attacks and his cognitive distraction, her weapon slashed his arm. He hissed in pain, and then took a few steps backward. He extended his shears, seizing the blade of her chainsaw with them, and ripping it out of her grasp. He tossed it aside, and it landed in a puddle and slowly whirred to a stop. In a fluid motion, he retracted his scythe, slammed it on the ground so it was sticking straight up like a spear, and then moved forward, pulling her roughly to him and smacking their mouths together. She stiffened. And then slowly and painfully, she came to her senses, and returned the action. He felt her heart rate slow as she calmed down, and he broke away to breathe. He locked his gaze on hers and watched as her gaze softened and tears began streaming down her face.

"W-Will?" it seemed to him that she was both confused and conflicted.

"You're done fighting." he spoke sternly.

"What!? What do you mean I'm "done fighting"?" Her eyes began blazing with manic insanity again.

"I can't have you getting hurt, and this is far too much for to handle in your current state."

"My "current state"!?" She was angry.

"I'm watching your sanity slip from you and I cannot handle it anymore."

She tried to break from his grasp, but in her weakened state and with his firm hold, she could not.

"Let go of me! There's a battle to be fought! This isn't the time for this!"

"You are not fighting anymore! You're too injured, exhausted, and weak to fight now! They're after you and you know it! In this state, they'll capture you and torture you to death! And I cannot allow that!" For once, there was emotion cracking in his voice.

"Let go!" Her eyes blazed with anger and confusion.

"You are not yourself! Snap out of this now!"

"No! I have to-" He tried to silence her with another kiss. She pushed him away.

"Stop it, Will! There's a battle going on, and I'm going to end it whether you like it or not! I haven't spilled near enough blood for my satisfaction."

"You're covered in it! You have the highest kill count out of all of us and it is having major repercussions on your mental state."

"Don't psychoanalyze me, William! I need to spill more blood and if it's not their blood, it will end up being yours! Let go of me!"

At the threat, he released his grip and stepped back. She turned abruptly and staggered towards her death scythe lying in the puddle. She lost her balance and fell forward. Luckily, he was quickly at her side in time to catch her.

"You see now." he said, "You are in no state to fight. It is okay to stop. You've done an exemplary job."

She looked up at him, shocked by the praise he so seldom gave. Her eyes were still conflicted, but they no longer showed anger. The anger had faded, leaving behind a dirty, pale mess, with fatigued eyes and splattered blood. There were tear-stains on her cheeks, and dark circles beneath her green orbs.

William's heart burned with pain. He had grown used to seeing her like this, and it hurt. It hurt so much. She had long since passed the point of no return. And her bouts of psychotic behavior were unpredictable now. She was far too dangerous. No matter what they tried...nothing...nothing seemed to be able to fix her state of mind anymore. And Will knew that she was being torn apart from the inside. He could not take seeing her like this anymore. It pained him knowing how much pain she was in.

Keeping their gazes locked, he helped her up, and guided her stumbling, disoriented body to the wall, where she could lean comfortably. He knelt in front of her, and brushed a stray red lock behind her ear. She was smiling at him now. He offered the ghost of a small smile in return, but his heart was aching, and emotions were surging inside him.

"I love you." he said, "I love you more than you could ever know, Grell Sutcliff."

He leaned in to kiss her. She returned the gesture, and everything fell silent around them as their kiss deepened. Emotions bounced off of them, and electricity surged between them.

Will reached inside his pocket, and pulled out the sickle he always kept on his person at all times. He drove the blade of the sickle into her heart.

She gasped, and he pulled away. Tears stung in his eyes and he did not stop them from coming. Her eyes were wide in shock and her expression was full of hurt and betrayal.

"W-Will...wh-why….why did you..." Her dirty face, framed by her matted red hair, was streaked with the tears that leaked from her wide, green eyes as she spoke. They were dyed black from the make-up she wore, and she was fighting for her breath as blood dribbled down the corner of her mouth.

He shook his head. "This is the only way, don't you see? I can't bear to see you in so much pain...I'm sorry...just know that I did it because I love you...and I don't want to see you suffer anymore."

Tears streamed down his face and he hung his head, tears falling onto his knees. "I'm so sorry…" He was met by shaky hands on his cheeks, hands that were losing heat and strength fast, but even so, they lifted his face, and she smiled at him as consciousness began fading from her.

"It's okay. You-you d-did the right thing...I-I know I'm...I'm dangerous...so thank you...I...I...forgive you...and I...I'll-" she was too weak to finish the sentence in English, so she said, softly, with her voice in a rasp, "Je t'aime toujours...Will..." And her entire body fell still, and she drew in her final breath. Her cinematic record began to flow from her, and tears blinded his gaze as he watched her entire life flash before his eyes. He heard her voice echo in his ears. And her soul gave up without a fight.

Once the entire record had flowed into the sickle, a breeze picked up. The wind surrounded the two of them, whisping, through both his and her hair and clothes. She began to fade into tiny fragments. And like snow, the wind carried the pieces of her as she became dust. A few of them touched warmly against Will's face, and her last words echoed in his mind.

Je t'aime toujours...Je t'aime toujours….Je t'aime toujours...

He stood up, turning his back, his tears began to dry, and he watched the particles disappear into the air as the clouds cleared, and the first rays of sun began to break through them, rising on the horizon.

* * *

NOTES: I'm just going to throw out the fact that first chapters can be deceiving...and from here, well...we're going back to the start. Before the chapter's events happened.


	2. Chapter 1: Morning

**About Three Years Earlier.**

Chapter 1: Morning

The early rays of sunlight and the morning breeze streamed in through the open window and the curtains on the left hand side of the bed, and as usual, William woke up fifteen minutes before his alarm. He blinked open his yellow-green eyes and yawned, reaching blindly over for his spectacles on the mahogany nightstand. He sat up and put them on his face, and instantly, his vision came into focus. He stretched, and surveyed the tidy bedroom around him. On one side was his plain mahogany furniture and set up, and on the other, was the equally tidy red, white, and black wardrobe, vanity, rug, and wall paintings and decorations. The only thing messy about that side was the untidy crimson nightstand, and the wardrobe door that was open a crack.

He had had a problem with mismatched halves of the room initially, but he refused to have his room decorated with such vibrant, extravagant color, and she refused to have her room be so "terribly plain" with such a simple, cliche mahogany set up. Thus, they had compromised, resulting in a bedchamber that looked like someone had cut two halves of different pictures out of a magazine and glued them together.

However, it had eventually grown on him (although he would not admit that out loud though).

He finished surveying their room, and he found his eyes wandering over to the figure sleeping beside him. He watched the steady rise and fall of her chest as she continued to peacefully snooze away, dead to the world. He would have to wake her soon, because he knew she would not wake up on her own, or with an alarm, for that matter.

Her back was turned to him, with her curtain of red hair falling about her pale shoulders, with one of them exposed due to the fact that her alazarin crimson nightgown had slid off towards her elbow. He reached out gently, and tried to fix it. When he did so, his fingers grazed an uneven portion of her flesh. He lifted his hand and narrowed his eyes, and repeated the same gesture, just to ensure he was not hallucinating. He wasn't. He felt it again, the rough texture of risen, puckered flesh he had never noticed before. He pulled his hand away once more and scrutinized her shoulder blade. It was hard to see through her curtain of hair, but even so, he was able to process what it was, a whip scar? By the looks of it, it was definitely an old scar, and it was not the the only one. He glimpsed a couple more of them too. And they looked as old, or even older than the first one he had seen. But where had they come from? He wanted to find out, although, logically, he realized it probably was not the best idea to ask her about it. He knew she was insecure with her body enough as it was.

He pulled up the sleeve of her nightdress and then got out of bed. Might as well get an early start since he was up anyway.. The earlier he got into work, the more he could get done before the actual shift started.

-xXx-

He got dressed in his usual work clothes, and then went into the living room and dining room to make coffee for the two of them. He would deal with his hair later. He left his suit jacket hanging over the back of his chair and put the kettle to brew on the stove.

He read the paper as he waited. There was nothing that interesting. As per usual. Nothing really happened in the Reaper Realm very often. Most of the time, everyone simply did their jobs and kept to themselves. It was dull. And that was just how Will preferred it. All he had to do was worry about his job and nothing else. Everything was as it should be.

-xXx-

The screaming kettle filled the air and snapped William from his reading. He got up and poured the boiling water into two mugs and prepared the coffee. For himself, he left it black and better, and Grell's, he added milk and two sugars, just as she liked it. He set the two steaming cups at the table to cool. Then he walked back upstairs to their room to wake her.

He walked quietly over to the side of her bed. As expected, she was still fast asleep, with the steady rise and fall of her chest and her hair fanned out on the pillow.

He laid a hand on her shoulder, "Grell, it's time to wake up." he said. He prodded her. She made a small noise. But did not respond otherwise. He continued to prod and call, she continued not to stir. And eventually, he found himself trying to fight the urge to wake her the easy way: by chucking a book at her head. But she was a lady. And that would be a rude thing for a gentleman to do.

"Your coffee is waiting for you." he said, "It'll get cold if you don't get up and get going."

Another noise elicited from her, this one a soft hum. So she was up. His eyebrow twitched. Again with the playing possum? Honestly.

"Grell," he said after awhile, "This is no time for games. You need to wake up and get going, we're already three minutes behind schedule."

As if that would get her up. If anything that'd make her stay in bed longer.

He put a hand on her shoulder and shook. "Grell, dear. It's time to wake up." He inwardly cringed. Terms of endearment were so unnatural coming from him, and he hated using them.

She opened one yellow-green eye, and peered at him. And he could tell, even though her face was half-buried in the pillow, that she was grinning mischievously, studying him with a quizzical expression.

He sighed inwardly. For God's sakes. She is so stubborn. Should have expected this. Honestly. Every morning is like this. He knew the only way to get her out of bed. He bent over her shoulders, using his hands to support his body, and leaned down and placed a chaste morning kiss on her lips.

She smiled, blushed lightly, and then pulled herself into a sitting position, yawning and stretching her arms over her shoulders. Her hair was a mess, frizzy, and sticking up oddly here and there. She reached across to her nightstand and took hold of her glasses, putting them on her face, and blinking as her vision came into focus.

"Good morning, Will darling." she said.

"Good morning, Grell." he replied, expression remaining stoic, "As I said, your coffee is waiting for you."

"You're such a dear, Will." she said, "I'll be down in a moment." She got out of bed, and pulled on her dressing gown. She grabbed her folded clothes from the top of the cedar chest at the foot of the bed and then vanished behind the changing divider on her side. Her dressing gown and her nightgown appeared over the top of it as she slipped into her work clothes.

"Alright, well don't take too long."

"I won't, dear. Don't worry yourself."

"Fine. Meet you downstairs." with that, Will turned and exited the bedroom.

-xXx-

Moments later, she was downstairs in her usual attire, and joining him at the breakfast table. They drank their coffee in silence, while she stared off into space and he read the paper.

Eventually, she grew bored and peered over his shoulder, resting her hands on either side of him. "Anything interesting?"

"Not really, no."

"Wait, what's that?" she pointed at a small article in the corner of the page he was reading and read the headline aloud, "Mysterious Reaper Seen on Second Street".

"Probably nothing. A newcomer that hasn't yet found their way to the dispatch, or a fake story because there is never anything interesting to report on." Will replied. He adjusted his glasses, "Which is fine by me. I don't want anything to disrupt the normalcy of our Realm."

Grell didn't reply right away. She was too busy scrutinizing the black and white, grainy photograph on the page. It was hard to make out. But the harder she examined it, the clearer the picture seemed to get in her mind. And the more she was able to associate with something she recalled- a distant, blurry image of someone she swore she had seen before. For some reason, it filled her with dread.

She cleared her throat and let go of her lover. "You're probably right, as always, it's nothing." She rounded him, dragging her hand across his back as she sat down beside him again, and took a sip of her coffee. To Will, it appeared that she had lost interest.

They talked quietly for a while, well, Grell did most of the talking, but still. "After some time, they glanced at the clock on the wall.

"We need to get going." Will said.

"Alright, darling.

They got up from their seats, put their cups in the sink, and grabbed their coats and scythes. They were out the door of the apartment, walking down the street toward the dispatch headquarters, with Grell clinging to William's arm, for the beginning of another long day of work.

* * *

 **A/N: These chapters are all going to be pretty short, since they're more like scenes instead of chapters. Usually my chapters range from 1,000-4,000 words, some are shorter, some are longer, it really depends.**

 **Write you soon!**


	3. Chapter 2: Afternoon

**Chapter 2: Day/Afternoon**

William unlocked his office door and stepped inside. He turned on the light, revealing the completely polished study. The only thing that was untidy about it was the stack of paperwork on the desk. However, even the stack was neat and straight.

After opening his office, he immediately sat in his chair and began pouring over it. His attention was drawn to the door, and Grell entered with her _To-Die_ list under an arm. She sat on top of Will 's desk, and began to read through today's names.

The first person wasn't scheduled for death for a couple of hours, so she had some time to kill.

While she read, Will glanced up at her for a brief moment. He liked seeing her actually working. She remained calm and focused, reading the leather-bound book. Her expression remained in a resting frown, but her yellow-green eyes that moved across the page looked solemn. Whenever she read she always looked solemn, perhaps due to the natural shape of her eyebrows? Regardless, she looked sad.

She had shed the glove, and it sat on the desk. Her slender, pale hand turned pages, and her painted red nails shown in the sunlight that came in from his office window. She licked her finger to turn a particularly stubborn page. She tucked a red strand of hair behind her ear. She felt his gaze on her, and glanced at him with a soft smile.

"You can't keep your eyes off me, can you, my love?" She teased, "And you want to see more of me, don't you?"

Will scowled as blush dusted his face, "Honestly. I can see you because you're in my peripheral vision." He said, looking back down at his paperwork, irritated at himself for getting distracted. The reason he was staring at her was because something about her actually working was fascinating. He didn't understand why, it just was. Maybe it made her seem more approachable. Or perhaps it was the fact that she was a very pretty woman. Maybe it had to do with the fact that she was his lover. Who knew? He honestly didn't. She was just interesting, he supposed.

Her voice cut into the silence and she said, "I'm going to go get breakfast downstairs. Do you want anything?"

.

"Not really. I'm not hungry." That was the same answer every time. He was only half paying attention.

"Alright then." She replied. Lips touched his cheek as she gave him a kiss, "I'll be right back." Then, she hopped off the top of the desk.

Leaving her _To-Die_ list closed on his desk, she left the office and headed down the hall towards the stairs that led to the lobby.

On her way, she passed a couple of young reapers who were still in training.

"Good Morning, Miss Sutcliff!" They greeted.

"Hello, lads." She offered a little wave as she passed them.

She received many "Good mornings!" on her walk to the lobby where the cafe was. She smiled. Things had been so much better lately. Ever since she had gotten together with Will, everything was going just swimmingly. She had actually started doing her work properly, in an effort to make her lover happy.

Naturally, of course, in return, he was less of a prick to her. He was still his usual, cynical, calculating, cold self, but that was mostly at work. At home, and when they went out together, or when they were alone, he was actually affectionate to some degree-sweet even- and he didn't push her away or refuse her affections anymore.

He wasn't big on verbal affections, though, but he showed that he loved her by being physically affectionate with her. It was subtle. He held her hand, he lightly touched her shoulders and back, and sometimes he'd kiss her on the cheeks in public. He treated her like a gentleman should treat a lady. Holding doors, pulling her chair out for her, pouring her drinks, and doing sweet gestures. He had long since stopped hitting her with his scythe and pulling and pushing her around. He'd also addressed the entire dispatch, every department, demanding they respect her. For she was as high-ranking as the manager himself was. He loved her, and she loved him, and that was all she wanted from him.

The lobby was lively, as it always was. She grabbed a plate and went through the line. She served herself eggs, sausage, and scones, and then she made more coffee. She also grabbed a blueberry muffin for Will. Even though he said he didn't want anything, she went ahead and got him something anyway. He needed to eat, eating was important. After she had gotten her breakfast, she went to go upstairs to join Will. However, she was waved down by some friends.

"Miss Sutcliff! Good Morning!" Ron's cheery voice called her attention. The blond sat with two older reapers, one tall and blonde with half his shaggy, nape-length hair braided in cornrows, and one smaller and pale with messy brown hair.

"Hello boys!" She replied, crossing over to join them. They had saved a spot for her between them. She sat down between Ron and Alan, the small brown-haired reaper.

The four of them shot the breeze for awhile.

"The boss is upstairs working, as usual, eh?" Eric, the tall blond, figured.

"Yes, you know him. He works diligently and almost non-stop from the time he gets here to the time he leaves in the evening." Grell replied.

"I dunno how he does it." Ronald commented, "...Stays focused all day and works so hard. I can barely last one shift with a lunch break."

"That's Will for ya." Eric said.

Everyone chuckled in agreement.

"Oh, did you guys see that news headline this morning?" Ronald changed the subject.

"Alan saw it." Eric replied, "Mysterious reaper, eh? That's kind of unsettling."

"I think it's just a hoax, honestly." Alan put in, rationally, "Nothing ever goes on in our realm, so some journalist was probably just desperate to report on something."

Eric shrugged, "I dunno."

"Will said it was probably just someone who hasn't found their way to the Dispatch yet." Grell said.

"Maybe. I think it might be true." Ronald commented, "What do you think, Miss Sutcliff?"

"Hmm, I'm not exactly sure, really."

"Eh, I doubt it's anything worth losing sleep over." Eric reassured.

Everyone agreed with this. Well, at least Grell tried to agree, but she couldn't shake the feeling of dread. "Well," she pushed her chair back and took Will's muffin and her coffee, "I'm going to head back upstairs, I'll see you lovely lads later."

"Wait, Miss Sutcliff!" Eric stopped her, "We're all going on lunch dates today, do you and the boss want to join us?"

"I do. I'll see if I can get Will away from his work long enough to come along." And with that, she made her way towards the stairs to get back to her lover's office.

-xXx-

He glanced up briefly when she opened the door, before going back to his work, the fountain pen continuing to scrape the paper.

"I know you said you didn't want anything, but I brought you a muffin, honey."

"Thank you." He said bluntly, "just leave it on the desk and I'll eat it later."

She set it on a napkin near him. Then she downed the rest of her coffee. She sat in one of the chairs in front of his desk for a few minutes, propping her legs up onto the top and crossing her ankles, re-reading her _To-Die_ list.

Even though she wasn't looking at him, Grell knew Will's eyebrow was probably twitching. And it would only be a couple moments before...

"Feet off the desk." Will said, glancing up from his paperwork for a moment.

Someone knocked in the office door. Grell readjusted her body position so she was sitting properly.

"Come in." Will looked up from his paperwork. A young reaper who was still in training from his class stood: A small-framed, frail girl with oversized glasses clutched her books against her chest in a self-conscious manner. Grell recognized her as Molly Withers.

"I-I'm sorry t-To bother you, Mr. Spears, b-but I have a question regarding the new material..."

"Well, go on with it then."

She walked passed Grell, only glancing at her briefly, and approached Will's desk. Typically any student who entered Will 's office would greet her, but Miss Withers was by far the shyest, most timid girl she had ever seen in a class. So she couldn't really blame her. She barely heard their conversation, as she continued reading her list. She would have to leave soon.

"...T-that makes much more sense now, t-thank you, Mr. Spears. H-have a nice day! Y-you too, Mist- I mean _Miss_ Sutcliff. Sorry, I'm so sorry!" And she turned briskly to leave the room, tripping over her feet, still apologizing, as she ran out, closing the door behind her.

"That's go to be the most timid girl i've ever seen." Grell commented, feeling sympathetic towards the poor thing. The girl was only about fourteen or fifteen years old.

"Yes, well, she is new, so that would only make sense."

"She's probably afraid of you~" the redhead commented, leaning over the desk and poking his chest with her fingers, "You're so cold and cynical."

"Yes, I know."

"Anyway~ The boys invited me to lunch today. They all have dates, and suggested I bring mine. Do you want to come?" she asked hopefully, "It has been awhile since we've gone out for lunch." she fixed her gaze on him, smiling.

"I suppose."

Grell squealed happily, and with a little spring flung over the table and hugged and kissed him chastely, "I'll see you later then! I love you~! I'm off!" She grabbed her scythe from where it was propped up against the shelf neatly beside William's and was out the door before she could catch the "I love you too." that followed her out of the office.

* * *

 _Later_

Will had long since lost track of time since Grell had left, so he was surprised when he finished grading papers and checked the time to find that it was nearly lunch hour. He opened his file drawer, and paper-clipped the sheets together, putting them into the designated folder. Then, he slid it closed. He glanced once more at the clock.

Grell would be bursting in in 3..2..

"Honey, I'm back! I've completed all my reapings and returned my list to the library. Are you ready to go?"

"Good." he replied, "As you're supposed to. Yes. I've just finished my work as well."

"What are you waiting for, come on then!" She pulled at his arms to get him out of his chair.

"Alright, I'm getting up. Hold on." he complied with her, a tiny smile appearing for a fraction of a second on his face, before he lifted himself off the chair and grabbed his suit jacket from the back of it. He slipped it on and then picked up his death scythe. Once he was up, Grell latched herself onto his arm and they headed out to meet the others in the lobby of the building.

-xXx-

"You got the boss out of his work for once, I see." Ron said as Grell noticed the blonde girl on his arm this afternoon.

"I was able to persuade him today." she winked.

Eric chuckled.

"Hey Mr. Spears." Ronald greeted. The dark-haired reaper nodded curtly and adjusted his glasses.

"How's it goin' boss?" Eric asked.

"As well as it should be." William said, his monotone voice making it impossible to figure out if he was pleased or not.

"We should probably get going now." Alan broke in calmly, clearly sensing the awkward air.

"Good idea. We don't need to waste time." William agreed.

And with that, the group of six headed out the large glass doors into the city.

-xXx-

The obvious choice for lunch today was everyone's favorite café that was a few blocks down from the Dispatch Headquarters. They were given a large booth and chairs next to a large window where everyone could look out and observe the quiet city. Eric and Alan wanted a booth seat right in front of the window, Grell and Will sat beside them, and Ron with his date sat on the seats across from them.

There was lively conversation as everyone poured over the menus. Will stayed quiet, observing Grell as she happily and energetically talked to her friends. He had nothing to say, so he silently read over the menu, trying to pick something small to please his woman, as he was never much of a lunch-eater.

When it came time to order, William noticed that all of the other men in the group ordered rather large portions of food, whilst he ordered a small salad for himself. Grell did too, and she was pleasantly surprised that he had. They also ordered carbonated water, as opposed to the unhealthy, sugary soft drinks the others ordered.

"You guys on a diet or somethin?" Ronald joked when he heard them place their orders.

"No," the redhead replied, "We just want to stay healthy. I've got to watch my figure. I have to stay beautiful for Willy dear."

"Honestly." Will adjusted his glasses. _You always will be_. He wanted to add, but not in front of other people. It wasn't that he was ashamed too, he just didn't want Grell's friends gawking over it like high schoolers, it was annoying. Despite not saying anything though, Grell met his gaze and smiled knowingly.

"There isn't anything wrong with watching what we eat and drink. The excessive amounts of sugar in soda are terrible for you anyway." Will said.

"That is true." Eric piped in.

"...But we still love it." Ron finished.

"Honestly." Will responded, adjusting his glasses.

"Do what you want, lads~" Grell told Ron, "Who are we to judge?"

"The manager and his lover." Eric joked.

"Don't be a smart arse." Alan said dryly.

The tall blonde chuckled, taking a sip of his soda and patting his date on the shoulder.

-xXx-

Their food was brought to them after a short while, and once again, everyone engaged in lively conversation as they enjoyed their meals. Grell was very animated and energetic as she spoke, just as Will was used to, but she never really interrupted or cut anyone off.

Will scanned his gaze, when he caught a lonely, brooding man with dark brown hair "reading" the paper, but on further inspection he realized the man's gaze was fixed on Grell. She got stared at in public often, and every time she did, it made him bristle and his skin crawl. He didn't know if it was jealousy or a protective instinct, maybe both, but still. And not only was the shady individual staring at Grell, no, he was intensely _studying_ her.

Will shot the man a warning glare, and rested a protective hand on Grell's shoulder. Then, he met eyes with the shady man for a second, before he focused his attention back to the paper, turning away from Will's warning gaze.

Grell was still immersed in conversation, but upon feeling the stranger's gaze on her, she stopped talking. Eric, who had been conversing with her, didn't think much of it and began talking himself.

Under his touch, William felt Grell stiffen. She looked at the figure who was studying her.

"How long has he been staring at me?" she asked quietly.

"I don't know, but I _don't_ appreciate it."

Grell didn't relax. Will knew she was uncomfortable.

"I think I recognize him…" she said softly. _And it makes me very uneasy._ Because, in truth, she knew she recognized him, and she wished she didn't, because it triggered memory most foul.

"Will, darling, can we step outside for a moment? I need some air."

"Yes, come on."

"Lads, we're going to get some air for a few minutes." she addressed their fellow companions. Alan nodded in acknowledgment.

"Okay. See ya in a bit." Ronald added.

With that, the two got up, with Grell leading them from the restaurant, out of eye-sight of the stranger.


	4. Chapter 3: Night

Chapter 3: Afternoon~ Continued

When they had exited the restaurant, Grell squeezed Will's hand and looked up so they met matching eyes to let him see the discomfort and vulnerability she was feeling. She pulled him away from the cafe and they walked down the road that looked very much like London town in the living realm, passing the little window shops. Normally, Grell would be walking slowly and stopping every so often to look at everything inside each of the shop windows, but right now, she could care less. She was more focused on getting to a more secluded place, away from the mysterious man.

"Grell, who was that? He wasn't of the Dispatch. I would have recognized him."

"Someone from my past that I really would have preferred _not_ to run into again." she replied, "...someone worse than an ex."

"Understood." Will answered, "Though, as the manager of the dispatch, I need to know if this is someone that poses a threat."

Grell's expression had reduced itself to a dissociated state and she seemed uneasy. She squeezed William's hand far too tight, and her gaze looked ahead and her expression was pulled into a frown. And, as it went, the shape of her brows made her look like she had mixed feelings of sorrow and fear. She didn't seem to hear Will either.

"Grell?" William echoed when he didn't receive a response from her, "Are you listening?"

She snapped out of whatever thought stream she was in. And then she locked matching gazes with him again.

"Sorry, Will, I spaced out for a moment. Can you repeat the question?"

Will's eyebrow twitched lightly, of course she hadn't been listening. More than half the time she didn't. "Does this reaper pose a threat to the dispatch?"

"I honestly don't know." she said, "Let's just hope that once he leaves we never see him again." _He poses more of a threat to me than anyone else but I don't want to worry my Willy-kun. Oh goodness...what if he's here because they're after me again!? N-no!_

Phantom pains rippled briefly down her back and it was as if she felt the aged leather and bone on her bare skin.

She winced and grabbed Will's arm, nails digging into his skin.

"Grell, loosen your grip, that hurts." William said bluntly.

 _Crack!_ She heard the unpleasant sound again, and almost felt her soft flesh tear and she stumbled forward, pulling Will as well. He didn't fall, he nimbly caught his balance and reached to steady her.

"Watch your step. The pavement is uneven." he figured she must have tripped on her heeled shoes.

She drew in a breath and gave Will a look that was halfway between fear and a glare, blinking away the tiny tear that she hadn't realized had formed in her eye. Apparently, neither had William. Though he seemed to get at least the vague idea she was in distress.

"Grell?" he said her name for the third time, "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine. But I'm not very hungry anymore." she answered, "Let's go sit in the park for awhile."

"We've got approximately a half hour." Will reported, which, of course, was his way of saying "yes, that's fine."

-xXx-

They returned to the cafe approximately 10 minutes before they had to get going again, and to Grell's relief, the brooding man in the corner was gone.

"There ya are." Ron greeted.

"Seemed like a long time to get some air," Eric pointed out, "Ya guys okay?"

"Yes, we're fine." Grell replied, "It was nice outside, so we were gone longer than we expected."

Ronald nodded. Alan checked the time on his watch and Will did the same.

"It's nearly time to go back to work. I suggest we get going so we're not late." Will said.

"Ahh, come on boss, we can sit for a couple more minutes, can't we?" Ronald's voice sounded vaguely childish.

"We shouldn't push it." Alan pointed out logically.

"He is correct." William agreed, "It's going to take about seven minutes to walk back. If we push it any further we run the risk of being late."

"Alright. Let's go then." Eric agreed. And with that, everyone got up to head back to the dispatch.

-xXx-

 ** _Night_**

The milky moon had risen high, casting an eerie, dim glow onto the cityscape. A biting breeze was in the air, as it was a very bitter, chilly night. The reaper realm was dead and empty. Silent. So silent you could hear the soft moan of the wind. Nothing moved, the shops were closed, the streets were vacant. Everyone had either gone home to get their required sleep, or had gone out into the living realm to reap souls. It had gone from a simple, lively atmosphere to a cold darkness that was reminiscent of a ghost town.

However, with a sudden flash of color, a figure leapt nimbly across the rooftops, and then sprung off the edge of a small two-story building. His feet landed softly onto the sidewalk. He snapped his green-eyed gaze around suspiciously, almost worriedly, before he quickly turned the corner into a dark alleyway. The ground was steep here, and sloped downhill. It almost looked like the sidewalk disappeared.

As he walked down, the pathway grew narrower around him, and it appeared that he was swallowed up by darkness. His eyes adjusted to the nearly pitch dark, and he was able to see what was around him. His echoing footsteps made their way towards an old, two story building. Lit eerily by the two oil lamps hanging outside the door was an old, abandoned theatre. It was slowly falling apart, and a thick layer of dust had collected on the cracked, scratched glass of the windows. Outdated promotional flyers for shows with runny ink, with tears, and peeling away, still remained there. The theatre signs above the doors were broken, letters missing, paint faded. It almost looked as if it were haunted.

The figure approached the front doors. He raised his fist and knocked on the dusty window. He heard a click, and the mail slot that had been installed was pulled open. Two cold, piercing yellow eyes appeared on the other side.

"Macbeth."

The mail slot closed. The door clicked and opened, just barely enough for the man the enter, before it was closed and locked behind him. He nodded briefly at the woman who had let him in, and then made his way down the winding, dimly lit hall towards the double doors that read "cast members only". He pushed them open, only to be met by a blast of chilly air, and walked onto center stage. The heels of his shoes clicked against the wood, echoing the empty, darkness of the abandoned theatre. He stood up straight and tapped a pattern. Left heel once, right heel once, left heel twice, right heel twice, together. He heard the whir of old mechanical parts and ropes. The floor fell below him, and he was lowered slowly underneath the stage. The dim light above him vanished as the trapdoor closed above him and he was met with darkness once more.

It only lasted for a few moments, though, before he was blinded by the sudden brightness of the lights that lit up the winding halls of an underground maze. He followed the narrow path he had memorized, into the main room.

It opened into a sort of living space. A long table and chairs in the middle, surrounded by seating and shelves with old books. The area was lit up, and figures sat conversing. Laughing, drinking, eating, smoking. While none wore glasses, they all had matching pairs of either yellow or green eyes, all in varying shades.

A woman with long dark hair and yellow eyes approached him, carrying a glass of something that she had no doubt probably had a couple of already.

"Hello Mr. Oswald." she greeted, "The boss is waiting for you in his office."

With a curt nod, he passed her and head to the office at the end of the hall. He knocked.

"Enter." said the voice from the other side of the door. He clicked open the door. As usual, the chair was turned, so one could only see the back of the boss's head. Two large, suited bodyguards stood behind the large desk on either side of the chair. They took their leave without being asked.

"Have a seat, Oliver." the boss ordered, "And tell me, what has become of my beloved Red Herring?"

"They seem to have tamed her, sir."

"Well, what a shame." the boss clicked his tongue in disappointment, "I guess we'll just have to break her again."

"And how will we do that, sir?"

"Let's just say that it is time for us to come out of hiding and seek our revenge." Upon saying this, he turned his chair around, and his sharp yellow-green eyes absent of glasses glinted in a foreboding manner.

-xXx-

Grell couldn't sleep. Normally, she'd fall easily into her dreamy oblivion, but tonight, she'd have no such luck. The figure in the diner today had her in a very frazzled state of mind, and she hated it. She was filled with uneasy paranoia, and the silent darkness around her was chilling in both a literal and physical sense. The normal feelings of not being able to see anything with her poor eyesight and the pitch black that filled the room, which she usually paid no mind to, was suddenly haunting.

Despite William being next to her, she felt alone and vulnerable. She felt as though there were threats all around her, as if she were a child afraid of the dark. She was angry with herself, because she thought she had subsided the thought of _him_ from earlier. Everything was finally going so well, why did he had to show up and _ruin_ it!?

If he showed his face...did that mean... _they_ would come out of hiding?

The thought alone chilled her to the bone. A large knot tightened up her stomach, and her entire body seemed to have stiffened up, pressing a heavy weight down onto her shoulders. The once soft sheets rubbed roughly against her skin, and she suddenly felt hot.. She tossed and turned, struggling to find a comfortable position. Straight as an arrow on her back. No. She could feel even the tiniest bumps in the sheets. On her side. Left first. Right second. She felt like her weight was putting pressure on her ribs. Belly. No. That was too much pressure on her chest. She kicked the sheets off and curled up in a ball. But she quickly found herself under the covers again when cold late night air from the window that was slightly ajar, drafted into the room. Goosebumps spread all over her exposed skin on her arms and legs, and seeped through the thin cotton fabric.

Irritated, she repeated the movements again, and for a third time, to no avail. She could hear the wind outside now. A sound that would normally be so tranquil, but now seemed eerie and uninviting. She was very envious of her partner, who remained in his peaceful, undisturbed slumber. He was dead to the world, it seemed, and his breathing was so soft it was inaudible.

She continued her useless tossing and turning. She became so frustrated that she began a slight tantrum, throwing herself about, flopping into several different positions, and letting out angry noises under her breath. She was so damn tired, but she was so damn uneasy and frazzled that no matter how hard she tried, she just _could not_ sleep.

She tossed herself again in a flustered manner. But because of her poor eyesight and the dark heap that was his form, she accidentally threw herself onto William. He shot up off the pillow, eyes flashing open. And because of years of unfortunate reflexes, in a startled haste, he grabbed her and flung her from the bed. She let out a startled cry as she was thrown off, her body colliding painfully against the wall across from the bed. She landed with a thump, and buckled to the ground. For some reason, it hurt a lot more than usual this time. And because of her fatigue and frustration, and now the sudden physical pain, tears pricked in her eyes.

"W-William why did you do that!?" she cried out in a strained, hoarse voice.

"Oh my God!" for once, emotion was actually present in Will's voice, "Honestly, Grell, why on earth would you attack me while I'm sleeping?" he muttered "idiot.", and got up and grabbed his glasses from the nightstand, turning on the small oil lamp. He walked over to her and got down to the ground, kneeling in front of her. There were dark circles under his bright green eyes as he fixed them intently on hers.

"I d-didn't mean to...I was couldn't sleep and while I was trying to find a comfortable position I acidentally flung myself on top of you. You know I can't see. I'm s-sorry." She was trying to fight back tears now, but it was not working. She was so upset that they just poured from her eyes.

He sighed. He was used to her incredibly emotional personality by now, so the crying was nothing new, but this time, itnwas different. This time, he actually felt terrible for it. _Maybe_ _because you just threw your partner from your bed and across the room, idiot. You'd better fix this, William T. Spears,_ ** _now._**

Maybe he was not the best at showing affection and emotion- or understanding those two things for that matter-but that did not change the fact that he really did love and care about her. He wanted to make her feel better. But how? He was not good with feelings and he scarcely had an inkling about what to do with them. He did not like that. Not understanding, not knowing. He tried to think of what to do. _What does Eric do when he needs to apologize for upsetting Alan? Think, William, think!_ _Let's see here...I've seen him touch his shoulders quite frequently...he also embraces him, and if Alan is particularly upset, he'll kiss him on the cheek or temple…_

William sighed at his own uncertainty, before he gently set his hands on Grell's shoulders. She looked up with puffy eyes through that gorgeous curtain of liquid blood that was her hair and locked gazes with him. He focused intently on her eyes with his, trying to show his sincerity.

"I am sorry that I threw you across the room. You know that I no longer would do that on purpose. But you startled me, and my reflexes acted faster than I could think." he said, "I really am sorry. Are you alright? I didn't hurt you too severely, right?"

He was concerned. actually concerned! Grell could not help but feel a faint glimmer of happiness flutter in her chest.

She sniffled and blinked away tears, nodding slowly and offering a small, sharp-toothed smile. "Yes, I'm fine. My back is a bit sore, but it isn't that bad. I've had worse. I'm just very tired and I've been having trouble sleeping all night."

"Why?" Will was confused, as he was used to Grell falling asleep before him on most nights.

"I...I don't know. It's just one of those nights." she answered with a half lie. Then she smiled, "You know, they say that if you can't sleep at night, you're awake in someone else's dream." she said, "Were you dreaming of me, Will darling?"

"That's an old wive's tale." William replied, adjusting his glasses, "And why would I need to dream about you, anyway, when you're right here beside me?" His voice was his usual cold monotone.

However, Grell smiled knowingly, blush feathering her cheeks. She knew Will meant that to be a compliment. _He means that the image of me in his dreams would be unable to compare to me in real life._

The beginning of " _Shall I Compare Thee to a Summer's Day"_ entered her mind, when Will's voice cut into her thoughts.

"Come. We have work tomorrow, we'd best get some rest." Will got up off the ground and offered Grell a hand. She slowly stood up, stumbling slightly due to being tired and slightly unbalanced with her footing. Will once again reached out a hand to steady her, and together, they climbed back into bed. Once they were settled, Will took off his glasses and leaned down to kiss her temple. She smiled and blushed at the advancement, pleasantly surprised. And right before he clicked off the light, she saw Will crack a smile. It was a tiny, brief smile, but it was meant only for her, and it filled her with joy.

"Goodnight Grell." Will said.

"Goodnight, my darling." she replied, "I love you."

"I love you, too." And with that, he turned the knob on the lamp, and it dimmed into nothing.


	5. Chapter 4: An Unpleasant Intervention

Chapter 4: An Unpleasant Intervention

Grell awoke late. She was feeling quite agitated and exhausted from her rough night. Her back was a bit sore from being hurled against the wall. Additionally, the bright morning light streaming in burned her tired eyes. She wanted to roll over and go back to sleep. She groaned and did just that, rolling onto her belly and burying her face in the fluffy pillow, hair pooling around her. She closed her eyes and almost drifted off again, when William's voice cut into her thoughts.

"Grell, it's time to wake up. We're going to be late if you stay in bed any longer. I let you sleep for as long as I could, but now you need to get moving. I've already made your coffee."

At the sound of his voice she rolled onto her back and fluttered her eyes open. Through her blurry gaze, she could make out his dark shape standing at the end of the bed. As usual, he was already dressed and ready for the day, with his scythe in his hand.

Despite being half asleep, she smiled. She loved waking up to him. She yawned and sat up, reaching blindly for her red glasses. Unfortunately, she managed to knock them off the nightstand. She let out a grunt of irritation and halfway reached towards the floor to grab her spectacles. However, there was no need for that, because William bent down, picked them up for her, and put them on her face. Her smile widened as her hazy green gaze came into focus and met William's stern expression.

"Good morning." he was the first to say it this time. He bent forward to kiss her chastely, to which they both blushed, before he said, "Now, up you get, time is ticking."

"Alright, alright-" she yawned again, "Goodness, so bossy." she jibed playfully.

"Honestly." Will had returned to his normal state of unamusement.

Satisfied, she got up and grabbed her clothes again, once more going behind the changing divider. She tried to change quickly to cover her insecurities, and was glad of the absence of mirrors in and around the divider. She had no desire to see her scarred flesh or flat chest, as it was a vile reminder to her lack of womanly qualities.

Once she had finished changing, she tied her long hair back in a ponytail and went to brush her teeth. Once she'd finished, she downed her coffee, and then she and William were out the door. She was a bit more positive in spirits and a bit more awake. She had had her caffeine, and had remembered in the midst of getting ready for work that she was teaching practical skills today. Although she did not necessarily do well with "children", she did quite enjoy teaching them her trade.

* * *

"Again!" Grell commanded, "Your form was sloppy. If this was a real collection you would have missed the cinematic record and now be impaled by it."

The boy stopped to catch his breath, beads of sweat dripping from his forehead. He must have been on his fourth attempt by now.

She had taken her class out to the training courtyard behind the main building. It looked a bit like the battlements of a small castle, characterized mainly by the stone towers with flat tops. There was an industrial machine that simulated a cinematic record. It was currently being wound up and used for practice.

She had divided the small class of 16 into pairs, and assigned each of them to stations where they practiced different skills including combat, agility, and soul collecting.

"Come on, one more time." she said.

"I've done this five times and I still can't get it right. I'm never going to be able to do this." he despaired.

"That kind of attitude will get you nowhere, lad." she replied, "You have to practice. Most young reapers aren't going to master a skill in one day. And that's fine. Now come, I'm going to show you again. Watch me closely." She took his sickle and re-cranked the film reel back into the machine and powered it up again. It started flowing nicely towards the scythe, slowly at first, before it suddenly shot up. With a quick movement, she jerked the opposite way, while still keeping her form on the ground, explaining her actions.

"Your first problem is that you jump back. Confidence is key. Do not be afraid of the cinematic record. All you have to do is lean to one side, and once it starts moving towards the sky…"

She stood and sprung into the air, aiming the sickle at the fake record, catching it. "Jump up to meet it, positioning your scythe where the record is going to end up, instead of where it already is."

The film reel collided with the metal of the blade, and crumbled to the ground.

"To land, go for the closest platform, not the ground. Bend your knees slightly, and if you need extra leverage, you can stretch your arms like so." she demonstrated what he was to do, and landed smoothly on one of the towers.

She smiled smugly in spite of herself, admiring her own skill as her protege watched closely in amazement. He was relatively new, so of course her near perfect skills were impressive to him.

She jumped down from the tower, landing in front of him, and restarted the simulation machine, handing him his scythe.

"Did that make it a bit clearer?"

The boy nodded, "You're really amazing, Miss Sutcliff."

She chuckled and smiled, "You're quite a charming boy, you know. And, naturally, of course. There's a reason I got an A in practical skills. Now come, one more time."

She restarted the simulation. He repeated what he had seen her do. It was evident that he lacked confidence, and his movements were still stiff. He stumbled a bit, but he managed not to fall or get hit this time. His form was overall much smoother instead of incredibly disjointed and hesitant like before.

"Better. That'll do." she told him once he'd caught his breath, "But you're still very stiff. You need to work on loosening up so that your movements are not so disjointed."

He nodded vigorously.

And with that, she strutted into the middle of the courtyard to address the rest of her class.

"Alright, darlings!" she sing-songed, "That's enough for today! I'll see you in class on Thursday."

Immediately, everyone put away their items and walked over to the wall where all of their things were lined up. Talking loudly, they gathered their belongings and dispersed. Meanwhile, Grell made her way to the bench where she had set her things and sat down on one end, lifting her water bottle off the ground where it sat. She took off the lid and took a large swig of it, as she was parched from training. When she had satisfied her thirst, she capped the water bottle and set it back on the ground. She then picked up the book she had been reading. For once, it was not Shakespeare. It was actually a novel instead of a play.

"Y-you're not reading Shakespeare…" a stuttering voice spoke. Grell jumped a bit, looking up from her book. Before her stood Molly Withers. She was a very sullen girl with large, sorrowful eyes that had once been brown but had taken on the iconic Grim Reaper green, crooked, oversized spectacles, a short brown bob haircut, a small chest, and a tiny frame. She looked much younger than she actually was.

"I-I'm sorry I didn't mean to startle you!" She was always so quiet in class that sometimes Grell forgot that she was there, "I just- I love to read...I-It's my favorite past time. I'm always curious about what other people are reading… if they read the same things I do...I might actually be able to have conversations….I w-wasn't trying to stare, I-I'm sorry. It's just that you always seem to have a new book every week." she spoke almost too fast, and beads of nervous sweat formed on her forehead. She rubbed her clammy hands together and flushed a deep shade of red with embarrassment.

Grell smiled softly. "It's alright, dear."

Molly looked down at the floor, avoiding locking gazes with Grell.

"No, you're right, it isn't Shakespeare this time. But it is still a very good book." Grell turned the focus back to the original subject, "Have you read this one?"

"The Picture of Dorian Grey? N-no...M-mother would never let me. She didn't approve of it. She said it would negatively influence me...she didn't even like me reading much anyway...unless it was books for my studies."

"Your mother is not here." Grell replied, "You don't have to listen to her rules anymore. The rules that are important now are the rules of the dispatch. Don't you remember me saying that before?"

Molly nodded slowly.

"Are you still interested in reading it?" Grell inquired.

"W-well...y-yes...I- I don't want to disobey Mother...b-but I am very intrigued by the idea of the story…"

 _Just how controlling and terrifying was Mrs. Withers now?_ A slight hint of anger burned softly inside her chest. If there was one thing she really could not stand, it was over-controlling, toxic parents. Her father had been like that, on top of being both mentally and physically abusive.

"Your mother has no control of you anymore." Grell said, "Don't let her negative opinions have an effect on you. You're a reaper now. Those trivial expectations and rules of that society cannot dictate what you do."

She nodded again. "I kn-know, I'm sorry…"

"There's no need to apologize so much, sweetheart."

"O-okay Miss Sutcliff."

"Now, are you still interested in reading The Picture of Dorian Grey?"

"Yes...I...I would love to."

"That's better, dear. We'll continue to work on your confidence along with your practical skills. Confidence is key with this job. Now, going back to the book. This is actually William's copy. I have my own in my office. If you'd like to come by during my office hours, I'll lend it to you."

"Really? Y-you would?"

"Of course. It's one of my favorite books and I think everyone should read it at least once. Make sure to return it once you've finished though, and take care of it."

"Th-thank you so much, Miss Sutcliff!" For once, Molly actually smiled.

"You're welcome."

"H-have a good rest of your day."

"You too, honey."

With that, the young trainee went to gather her things from the wall and headed back into the main building.

-xXx-

As she watched her leave, she could not help but feel a certain deal of sorrow. To think that a girl so young ended up at the Dispatch was very saddening. There was so much more she could have done with her life. But now, she had to reap souls for eternity.

To Grell, death was a very pleasant concept. Until the second children were involved. She adored children, and she could not stand the thought of them dying. She mentally _could not_ reap them. It was so terrible that Will had to triple check and make sure no one that was younger than eighteen ended up on her To-Die list. The couple times that mistake had occurred, severe repercussions were suffered that she really did not want to recall.

In an attempt to forget the unpleasant subject that was currently in her head, Grell turned her attention back to her book, investing herself into it so that she became dissociated from the area around her. She hardly noticed people moving in and out from the courtyard to the main building, and did not pick up a single conversation.

Suddenly though, a phrase cut into the air and into her reading like a sharp blade. Someone was complaining to a friend.

"It's not fair, I never signed up for this job! There's a reason I killed myself and it wasn't to reap souls. Being a reaper is the last thing I _ever_ wanted. I want to quit! I'd much rather be a deserter!"

Grell's blazing eyes snapped up from the yellowed book page.

 _A deserter...a deserter…_ The phrase echoed painfully in her ears. She was hit with a sudden wave of terror and disturbance. And her words came before she could stop them.

"You most certainly DO NOT." she said, "Being a deserter is worse than being a reaper. Not only are they physically blind, no. They're also blind to any sort of empathy. They lie, they deal, they manipulate and they kill in the service of liars, sociopaths, and killers. They're more corrupt than any demon." her voice had risen a considerable amount. The boy who had been ranting stared at her with wide eyes, shocked at her sudden interruption.

"How the h*ll did you learn about the deserters? Who told you?"

"They...mention them in the textbook." the perplexed, startled boy replied nervously.

 _Will needs to send a commission in to get that information removed from the textbooks._

"And your instructors should have told you NOT to bring them up." she said icily.

"Well, Christ. _Sorr-ry_ professor."

"This should be a learning experience for you, young lad." she scolded, "Do not mention them again. Just know that they've been gone for a long time and that there hasn't been any in years. And do not think for one second you want to be one, because you don't." And with that, she picked up her book and water bottle, and she left the courtyard in haste, not even caring who was murmuring what behind her back in response to her harsh intervention. All she cared about was dismissing herself from the situation before it got worse.


End file.
